


Polished to Perfection

by larryscape



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Body Worship, Bottom Louis, Comedy, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Foot Fetish, M/M, Manicures & Pedicures, Massage, No Angst, Rimming, Romantic Comedy, Smut, Thighs, Top Harry, kind of, not really foot fetish
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-07
Updated: 2013-06-09
Packaged: 2017-12-14 06:48:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/833963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/larryscape/pseuds/larryscape
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'After their show on Saturday, management had told the boys that they had an anti-bullying campaign photoshoot coming up the following week. Although Louis was pleased with the motivation behind the shoot, he was indifferent to all the pampering and tailoring that preceded it. Sure, Louis was known to sport a shimmering eyeshadow every now and then, but the waxing and ‘mani-pedis’ weren’t really his cup of tea.'</p><p>Also known as the one where Harry drags Louis to get a pedicure with him, and Louis pretends not to like it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. firm believer in feet

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, be sure to read my first one shot 'Good Sport'  
> Your feedback and kudos are much appreciated, and feel free to contact me through twitter tumblr or ask.fm all @larryscape
> 
> Also, I will possibly be adding smut to this as another chapter like I did with Good Sport, so stay tuned for that.
> 
> Finally, and most importantly, Alexa aka @louistthebrave gave me this wonderfully adorable idea and once again contributed to a lot of the ideas that were written in this oneshot, and she's the bomb and I love her :)

“No,” Louis said, his eyes glued to the latest copy of Seventeen Magazine (Harry signed them up for a subscription).

“Why not?” Harry pouted, crawling down to the foot of the bed next to Louis’ feet. “Look at your little toesies! They’re sad ‘cause you neglect them, Louis,” he finished while grabbing Louis’ pinky toe between his fingers.  Louis immediately retracted his foot only to kick it back into the direction of his boyfriend’s face.

“Because, Harry, just because I’m gay does not mean I enjoy sitting in a beauty parlor for hours while strange women fondle my feet.”

Harry’s playful grin dropped into a serious gaze turned straight at Louis. “Joyce is _not_ strange.”

Rolling his eyes, Louis got up from the bed and made his way towards the kitchen, only wearing his black-rimmed glasses and Power Rangers boxers.

After their show on Saturday, management had told the boys that they had an anti-bullying campaign photoshoot coming up the following week. Although Louis was pleased with the motivation behind the shoot, he was indifferent to all the pampering and tailoring that preceded it. Sure, Louis was known to sport a shimmering eyeshadow every now and then, but the waxing and ‘mani-pedis’ weren’t really his cup of tea.

Speaking of tea, Louis needed some.

“Harry, make me tea!” he called back to his boyfriend who was still sulking at the foot of the bed. He realized that he was standing right next to the kettle and probably could have prepared some on his own, but they had a _routine_ : Harry would make tea and Louis would drink it.

Soon, Harry was standing in the threshold with an excited grin; He was always eager to play housewife.

“Thanks, babe,” Louis said, grinning up at Harry from where he sat in his chair, but Harry didn’t walk towards to stove. Instead, he shuffled behind Louis and bent down so that his mouth was parallel to his ear.

“Not so fast,” Harry whispered, hot breath tickling Louis’ ear, and Louis thought that if Harry’s reason for not making tea had to do with him wanting hot sex instead then Louis was willing to let the tea wait. But then Harry was finishing with, “I make tea if you come to the salon with me,” which was frankly a bit of a boner killer.

Louis whirled his head around to meet Harry with a cold stare. “No!” he snapped.

 “But Louis, it’s so relaxing,” Harry pleaded. “You come out feeling like a whole new man!” Harry seriously looked like he was about to break out into song.

“You’re not gonna start singing, are you?” Louis said flatly. “Besides, if anything, I would come out feeling like a whole new woman.” He smiled at his shoes, proud of his comeback. Louis was funny.

“Still resistant, I see,” Harry said with his most pensive voice. “Looks like we gotta up the ante a bit, yeah?”

“Uhm, no,” Louis answered. “No thank you.”

Harry then circled around Louis’ chair and landed in his lap, his fingers digging into the back of his neck. “How ‘bout if you don’t come to get a pedicure with me,” he began, leaning in slowly. “I don’t have sex with you for a whole week.”

Louis escaped Harry’s gaze and gave a dramatic eye roll. “Yeah, Harry, like you could go a week without my dick,” Louis said, lifting his hips up so that his crotch was pressing harder against Harry’s bum.

After squirming a bit from the sudden pressure, Harry looked down at his boyfriend fondly. “You mean bum.”

“Shut up.”

And maybe that struck some images in Louis’ head, specifically ones involving Harry’s dick in his bum, but it’s not like Louis was _desperate_ for sex or anything. Besides, if Louis did refuse to go to the salon, Harry would definitely cave before the week passed. But it turned out that Louis would rather spend an hour getting a pedicure than spend a week not getting sex – or ‘love making’ as Harry insisted they both call it – so Louis went ahead and got dressed.

He was proud to admit that he did not know the proper dress code for beauty salons, even more so when Harry told him to wear short shorts.

“Excuse me, _what?_ ”

“Like…you know,” Harry answered casually. “Shorts that are short.”

Louis just stared back at Harry, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “I realize that, Harry, but _why?_ ”

Harry rolled his eyes as if Louis had just asked him how to make pot noodles. “Because, silly, before they paint your pretty toes, they moisturize your little feeties, and if you’re wearing shorts – preferably _short_ shorts – they’ll moisturize your whole legs.”

“Feeties, Harry? Really?”

Harry responded by giving Louis a bright smile and a wet kiss on the cheek before spinning around towards the bathroom to get ready, and if Louis heard correctly, he was also singing the word ‘feeties’ to some made-up melody.

After Louis and Harry were fully dressed in their shortly cropped jean shorts (or ‘jorts’ as Niall would call them) they grabbed their belongings and got ready to leave for the salon, and Louis may or may not have snuck the Seventeen magazine in Harry’s bag before they left.

Once they arrived at the salon, a high-pitched, electronic melody played as the door opened, and Louis nearly shat himself, while Harry took it upon himself to do a little dance.

“You’re so _weird_ ,” Louis whispered, his face nothing but fond smiles. But once he thought Harry had danced for long enough, he reached out for Harry’s chest and quickly tweaked his nipple through his white T-shirt, laughing when Harry jumped and failed his lanky limbs in response.

“You’re so _mean,_ ” Harry retorted, gently stroking at his nipples to ease the pain, pouting indignantly at Louis, who answered by continuing to laugh and then rested an arm around Harry’s waist as they started walking towards the front counter.  

“Hello, boys, what can we do for you today?” A cheery young blonde asked, appearing to be around Harry’s age. Her face was set in a wide-eyed smile, and it was pretty clear that she knew who they were considering she looked as if she might burst into tears (or flames) at any moment.

“We would like two pedicures, please,” Harry said, turning on his brightest smile and bouncing up on his toes on the ‘please.’

The girl behind the desk responded by continuing to stare at Harry, and Louis was pretty sure he saw a trickle of saliva dripping from her mouth, but Louis’ already seen it all, so that didn’t really surprise him.  Of course, she then proceeded to twirl her hair around her index finger while batting her eyelashes in a way that was a bit less than attractive, more so frightening.

“Erm, two pedicures,” Louis said, waving his hand in front of the blonde’s face. “Hello?”

“Oh! – Uhm, yeah,” she sputtered. “Yeah, two pedicures, sorry.”

After she detached her stare from Harry and looked down at her computer, Louis gave her an obvious scowl and tightened his grip around his boyfriend’s waist. Harry reciprocated the touch by resting a hand on the small of Louis’ back and then looking around to make sure no one was watching before lowering it and giving Louis’ bum a hard squeeze. “Oi,” Louis squeaked, and soon he was being watched by over thirty middle-aged women and a blonde check-in girl. “Sorry,” he said lifting up his hand. “Just a fly.” Once everyone returned to minding their own business, Louis turned to Harry and gave him a cold stare. “Pesky, pesky fly.”

“Am I a pretty, pesky fly?” Harry asked, batting his eyelashes the way the check-in girl had attempted before.

“You’re pretty pesky, alright.”

Harry’s face lit up, not quite grasping the fact that he just got insulted. “Thanks, Lou!” he gushed before squeezing Louis’ bum for a second time.

“Are you quite _finished_ , Harry?” Louis protested, laying a playful hand on his boyfriend’s shoulder before looking up to meet eyes with the check-in girl, who either was really uncomfortable or about to burst into tears. “Uhm,” he said to break the silence. “So… pedicures.”

“Right! Right, pedicures,” she stammered. “Right this way,” she finished, walking out from behind the desk and making her way to the opposite end of the salon.

Once they had found their chairs and set down their belongings, Louis wasn’t surprised that the blonde had asked to get a picture with the both of them. After Louis had clumsily explained that she could only get a photo with one of them (rules were rules), she obviously chose Harry, who was more than enthusiastic to please a fan, because well, it was Harry.

“Oh my god, thank you Harry,” the girl squealed before looking at Louis and then back at Harry. “It was so nice meeting you both.”

“Nice meeting you too, babe!” Harry called out to the girl, who tripped over a bent over nail artist in response to the nickname while walking back to her desk. After stifling a burst of laughter, Harry turned back around to face Louis who was already staring back at him with an irritated glare. “What?” Harry asked innocently.

“ _Nice meeting you too, babe!”_ Louis imitated Harry using his best posh accent and attempting (and failing) to make his voice much lower.

Harry rolled his eyes fondly in response and said, “Oh, Louis, sweet, sweet Louis. I do believe you are turning green, my love.” He then sat down in the large, leather chair beside Louis and continued to look at him with an innocent grin.

“Well maybe I would be a normal shade of pink if you weren’t flirting with random fans,” Louis mumbled while looking down at the Seventeen magazine he pulled out.

Harry hummed in response before poking at his boyfriend’s cheek. “Always thought you were more of a peach color.” Louis immediately turned his head to bite at Harry’s finger. “Ouch! Bad peach,” Harry said, retracting his finger and rubbing it dramatically. “Besides,” he continued. “I wasn’t _flirting_. In fact, there are about fifty reasons as to why that theory makes no sense.”

After listening to Harry list fifty – yes fifty – reasons as to why he was not flirting with the blonde check-in girl, while Louis frequently interrupted him with things like “Okay, Harry,I believe you” and “No really, you can stop now,” they were greeted by two small Asian women.

“Hello!” Harry sang with that dumb cherub smile that made Louis want to puke rays of sunshine. The two women said hi back and then introduced themselves as Jenny and Krista, names that Louis was positive were not on their birth certificates.

After Harry and the two nail artists engaged in an extensive conversation about why Joyce wasn’t in that day, Louis and Harry were asked to remove their shoes and socks.

“Oh, wow!” one of the nail artists (Jenny, Louis thinks) exclaimed with a thick Chinese accent. “Your feet so tiny!” she finished while taking Louis’ bare foot in her hand and looking up at Louis, who was a bit more than uncomfortable. Harry, on the other hand, was beaming.

“Uhm,” Louis said, not sure if he should say ‘thank you’ or ‘stop touching my feet’ or something along those lines.

“Oh my god, I know, right?” Harry jumped in as if someone had just brought up his favorite indie band. “They’re like a dancer’s! In fact, I call him my tiny dancer,” Harry gushed, and wow, that was not something Louis wanted Harry to share with random nail artists with foot fetishes. This was too weird; Louis never should have come to this place.

After shooting Harry a ‘can you not’ look, Louis was soon being lathered up in moisturizer from knee to toe. The thought of a stranger touching him wasn’t too difficult to get over considering his career involved random girls trying to touch his bum, and eventually, he began to appreciate the treatment. He looked over at his boyfriend who was also getting lotion rubbed up and down his skinny legs, also noticing he had turned on the massage function of his chair.

“Hey, Lou,” he said softly, his voice all choppy due to the chair pounding lightly against his back. “You having fun?”

 Louis chuckled at how ridiculous he sounded but soon met his gaze and let out a calm “Sure.”

Harry’s sleepy grin fell into a concerned pout. “Why just sure?” he asked. “Why not a ‘yes, Harry I’m having the time of my life’?”

Louis looked down at Jenny, who was now working her palm into the bottom of his heel, then back up at Harry who looked like someone just stole his swing at recess. “’Cause, H, I’m pretty sure my ideal way of spending time with you doesn’t include _this_ ,” he said while gesturing down at Jenny, who was vigorously hitting Louis’ heels, her face a comical look of sheer determination. “Like, I know it’s supposed to be relaxing and all, but I just don’t see-” Louis was instantly cut off by his own laughter, but the uncomfortable part was that nothing was funny, and soon everyone was looking at him again.

“Aw!” Harry practically squealed, poking at Louis’ eye crinkles. “A bit ticklish there, Lou?”

“Shut,” Louis began, trying so hard to compose himself so that everyone would just stop fucking looking at him. “up!”

Jenny’s hands were kneading between Louis’ toes, and he could understand how it might feel good for some people but only once you get past the goddamn _tickling_. He tried thinking about broken hearts and sad puppies and dead babies, literally anything that would make him stop laughing, but he kept laughing, and Harry kept staring at him like he was a newborn kitten or something. “You’re precious,” Harry beamed. “Now it looks like you’re enjoying yourself,” he finished while resting a fond hand on Louis’ bicep.

“This is completely against my will, Harry!” he replied between small fits of giggles. He then turned to look down at Jenny, the cause of all his torture and misery. “Can you please stop that?” he asked, trying to soften his voice so he wouldn’t offend her. The small nail artist looked up at him with a bemused expression, completely oblivious to what had been going on for about two minutes now. “It’s not- It’s not your fault or anything, I’m just uh-”

“He’s ticklish,” Harry interrupted, finishing Louis’ thought with a wide, stupid grin on his face. He then turned to Louis and gave him a look as if to say ‘I got you,’ and well, maybe Louis was a bit mortified by the situation, so it was probably best that Harry did the explaining. If Louis explained, Jenny probably would have ended up scampering off in tears, but with Harry, everything was gentle and sweet, and well, who wouldn’t love him?

“Oh, you ticklish!” Jenny said, her perplexed frown turning up into a delighted grin. “You so cute!” she continued, grabbing one of Louis’ toes again and shaking it up and down like Harry had done earlier that morning. Jenny, Krista, and Harry then proceeded to engage in an enthusiastic conversation about Louis’ cuteness and his ‘wittle tosies,’ while Louis sat there uncomfortably trying to enjoy his magazine. He wasn’t too concerned about female teenage fashion nor finding out ‘Is He Really into You or Just Using You to Make Her Jealous?’ but Louis would have done anything to keep him from overhearing that conversation.

Eventually, the two women finished massaging Louis and Harry’s feet and proceeded to trim and file their toenails, which Louis did not care to observe considering feet kind of grossed him out, so he took it upon himself to strike up a conversation with Harry.

“Harry,” he sang sweetly after turning his gaze to his boyfriend. Harry looked completely blissed out from the massage chair, which made Louis’ soft smile change into a mischievous smirk. “Babe, you look like you’re about to orgasm,” he continued softly so that nobody could hear him.

Harry kept his eyes closed, his eyebrows furrowed in pleasure and his jaw going slack, and Louis got actual déjà vu from the night before. “So good, Lou.”

Louis abruptly looked around to see if anyone was witnessing Harry’s very sexual episode before turning to glare at his boyfriend. “Harry!” he whispered sternly. “You are in public. Please stop talking like that!”

“Just try it, Louis,” Harry moaned, his head drooping to one side, and Louis thought that ok, maybe it _would_ feel nice and maybe it would help him forget about the fact that a small Asian woman was groping his feet. Besides, it’s not like Louis would have the same reaction to the chair as Harry, who was overly sensitive to everything (literally, everything), so Louis pressed the ‘on’ switch and waited.

The red light on the remote lit up next to the word ‘Shiatsu,’ and suddenly the back of Louis’ chair was moving down his back in big circles, which scared the shit out of Louis, who squeaked in surprise. He looked over to Harry, who was already staring back at him with an amused smirk. “Shut up,” Louis whispered shortly, groaning in exasperation when Harry shot him back an innocent ‘what did I do?’ look. He then decided to change settings on the chair to see if any of them _didn’t_ make him feel like he was getting felt up by an octopus.

Finally, he settled on some massage setting he couldn’t pronounce if he tried and smiled contently when it didn’t try to snap his spine like all the others. In fact, it was actually quite nice; it kneaded all his tight spots that he didn’t even know he had, but it was gentle enough so it didn’t make them feel worse. He shut his eyes to let himself relax even more and smiled subconsciously in pleasure, and soon he was tilting up his chin and letting out a strained “ _Mmm_ ,” and holy shit, that wasn’t supposed to happen.

“Oh my god,” Louis heard Harry say as he quickly opened his eyes. “Louis, did you just-”

“Don’t.”  

Louis tried his best to avoid eye contact with the entire room, who was most likely staring at him for the third time that day. Instead, he focused his attention to Jenny, who looked like she was just about finished putting a clear coat on his toes. “So, we’re almost done?” Louis asked, looking down at his nail artist, hoping he would be able to go home as soon as possible. But suddenly three pairs of eyes shot in his direction. “What…” Louis was confused as usual.

“You not want color?” Jenny asked Louis, sounding like he had just denied her an icecream sundae. He turned to Harry for help, hoping he would charm his way out of it as usual, but Harry’s expression matched Jenny’s… Louis should have known.

“It’s the best part, Lou.” Harry said, and fuck, was his lip quivering? Louis’ pretty sure that exact lip quiver was the same one that got him to bring Harry tea and let him borrow his clothes and go down on him for a fucking _hour_ that one time. Fuck Harry for being so goddamn _cute_.

Louis looked from Harry down to Jenny and then at Krista and finally back at Harry, and they all looked like little kids who were about to hear whether or not they were getting to go to Disneyland. Louis really had no choice, didn’t he? “Erm, sure,” Louis said, looking around to see everyone’s face light up. “Okay, I’ll get a color.”

After a small round of cheers and an obnoxious applause from Harry, the two boys shuffled up to the front to pick out their colors, Harry scolding Louis every now and then to be careful not to smudge his clear coat.

Once they both returned to their chairs, Louis hesitantly handed Jenny a small bottle of baby blue polish. “Uhm,” he said with a strained expression. “It matches my eyes… I guess,” and within the next minute, he was sat in his chair next to Harry, mourning over the loss of his final ounce of masculinity.  He then peered down to the right where Harry’s toes were being painted as well. “Pink, Harry?” he scoffed. “Really?”

Harry answered Louis with a look of sincere bewilderment and continued by saying “What? It compliments my eyes and makes my skin appear two shades darker,” and alright, apparently Louis had no knowledge of pedicure color selection and therefore should never speak again.

“Whatever you say, princess,” Louis replied with teasing eyes, and Harry responded with a cheesy smile that ended up looking like the school picture of a kindergartener who hadn’t quite learned how to pose for a photo.    

Eventually, after a good minute of lighthearted banter and some possible ‘heart eyes’ as the fans would call it, both Louis and Harry’s toes were fully painted in light, pastel shades of blue and pink.

“We look like cotton candy!” Harry exclaimed excitedly, wiggling his toes next to Louis’ for emphasis. Louis rolled his eyes in endearment and indulged his boyfriend in an enthusiastic chuckle.

“So we do,” he added, peering up at Harry who met his gaze with a genuine twinkle in his eye, and of course, only Harry would get this excited over a pedicure. Normal nineteen-year-old boys obsessed over cars and football and getting laid, but Louis’ boyfriend found his thrills in getting pampered at the local nail salon, which should have been weird, but it was mostly endearing.  

Harry was definitely different, but he was a sort of different that kept Louis from facing his biggest fear: growing up. Dating Harry felt like playing on the jungle gym with your crush in kindergarten; it was fun and easy and sometimes weird, but Louis truly wouldn’t know what he would do without him, as cheesy as it sounds. No matter how many years it had been since he and Harry had met, Louis always found himself thanking god (and his bladder) for taking him to the bathroom that one day in boot camp; otherwise, he wouldn’t have ever met his favorite playmate.

 

 

 


	2. it's in your lips and in your kiss; it's in your toes and your fingertips

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You do have pretty feet, you know,” Harry said in a low, husky voice, sounding more like he just complimented the size of Louis’ dick. 
> 
> Also known as the smut that ensues after Harry drags Louis to go get a pedicure with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> twitter/tumblr/ask.fm: larryscape
> 
> shoutout to alexa @louistthebrave as always :)
> 
> feedback and kudos would be lovely!

After Harry had successfully convinced Louis to get a tiny daisy painted on his left pinky toe, they said goodbye to Krista and Jenny, who promised to say hello to Joyce for Harry, and went back to their flat.

They sat on their bed for a while, Harry touching the tips of their toes together to compare their new ‘cotton candy’ pedicures. Harry had gotten a rose painted where Louis got the daisy, explaining that it matched his soft demeanor, while the daisy matched Louis’ bright one. This clarification made Louis laugh fondly to himself, because only Harry would manage to come up with these ridiculous analogies and say them with a completely straight face.

“You do have pretty feet, you know,” Harry said in a low, husky voice, sounding more like he just complimented the size of Louis’ dick.

Louis raised his glance up from their feet to meet Harry’s, letting out a soft chuckle. “Like a dancer’s,” he finished, right on cue, and soon he was looking back down at his feet to find his boyfriend leaving small kisses along his toes. “You’re very strange, did you know that?” Louis said, burying a small hand in Harry’s curls to scratch lightly behind his ear.

Harry responded with a soft “Mhm,” between kisses. He then began to kiss up Louis’ shins, opening his mouth slightly to leave wet marks along his golden skin. Once he reached Louis’ thighs, he kissed his way to the inside of the left one, using his hand to rub possessively over the right, and the fact that Louis was getting so turned on over what started as a weird foot fetish outburst kind of caught him off guard. But there was no way he could ignore the deep, _hot_ suction on the inside of his thighs. Harry’s lips were parted wide enough for his tongue to kitten lick at the bruises he was making on the smooth skin, and his lips were so goddamn _full_ , and Louis wasn’t sure whether to describe them as plump and soft or rough and sinful. But whatever they were, they were making Louis feel amazing and frankly a bit overwhelmed, which he would never admit considering Harry hasn’t even touched his cock yet. While Harry worked his mouth over Louis’ thighs, getting closer and closer to the bottom of his shorts, Louis was trying to hold back the moans that were inching up his throat, biting his lip to make sure none escaped.

After sucking one more prominent, dark bruise on the tender skin of Louis’ inner thigh, Harry looked up to see the strained look on Louis’ face as he tried to hold back his pleasure.

“Babe, relax,” he said grabbing Louis’ face in one hand and meeting it with a deep kiss on the lips. He pulled back to look at Louis, his face still tense along with the rest of his body. “Maybe I’ll have to put you back in that massage chair, and then I’ll get you moaning,” Harry teased.

But soon Harry’s playful grin fell into a pensive stare. “What?” Louis said, worried that Harry had some ridiculous plan to make him relax, because, well, all Harry’s plans were ridiculous.

“Turn on your stomach,” Harry demanded, making a spinning motion with his index finger, and okay, Harry usually wasn’t so demanding, but Louis could oblige.

Once his stomach was pressed firmly against the mattress, he felt a warm presence looming above him, and soon a pair of hands started rubbing at his shoulder blades. He let out a soft moan when Harry deepened the touch, and he could hear Harry laughing softly to himself, because basically, he was an asshole.

“Why do we even make love when you respond better to massages, hmm?” Harry said mockingly.

“Just keep going,” Louis groaned into their duvet.

So Harry did.

“Oh my _god_ ,” Louis breathed out when Harry kneaded his palms into the small of his back. He then went on to massage Louis’ bum, his hands rubbing circles over its round curves and squeezing it into his grasp from time to time. Louis would often scold Harry for making grabby hands at his bum, arguing that it made him feel like a lady or a piece of meat, but he kind of loved how possessive and needy it was, especially when Harry made it feel so damn _good_ , so Louis couldn’t complain.

“That’s it, sweetheart.” Harry cooed. “Just relax.”

With every time Harry’s hands deepened into the muscles of his ass, Louis let out a soft whimper, his body overcoming with pleasure from just a simple touch. He would have been embarrassed of the fact that he was this sensitive to a fucking _bum_ massage, but it felt too good for him to care.

Louis only protested when Harry lifted his hands from his body and stopped massaging him. “W-what are you doing?” Louis said lazily, turning his head to the side to find out why Harry stopped.

Harry answered Louis by lowering his hands back down onto Louis’ shorts, grabbing hold of the waistband and slipping his fingertips underneath the fabric before tugging them down to his knees, and Louis thought that maybe he could forgive Harry for stopping the massage if it meant better things were about to come.

Within seconds, Harry’s hands were back on Louis’ ass, his thumbs circling around his perky cheeks soon joined by his soft lips pressing wet kisses beside them. Louis’ eyebrows furrowed in pleasure, and he buried his face deeper into the sheets, desperate for more. Louis couldn’t help but rut his crotch down into the bed. He needed more contact; not just to be felt up. This wasn’t middle school.

“Harry, I need you t- _oh my god, yes_ ,” Louis whined when Harry suddenly spread his cheeks open and licked a wet stripe over his hole. Apparently, Louis’ rutting into the bed wasn’t very subtle, but Louis was grateful that Harry could take a hint. Harry was known for his lips, but his tongue could work wonders, and Louis just needed it, _craved_ it.

Harry continued by sucking at Louis’ hole, his tongue poking out to lick around the rim every so often. Louis felt Harry smile around his entrance when he let out small high-pitched whimpers in response, and Louis couldn’t be bothered to feel embarrassed, because it just felt so fucking _good_.

“Go in,” Louis mumbled into the mattress, and Harry obeyed, his tongue plunging deep into Louis’ hole. “ _Mmm,_ yeah babe,” Louis exhaled, clutching the sheets in his fists. Harry licked up the inside of Louis’ hot walls, humming in response after removing his tongue.

He continued to eat Louis out for quite some time after that; it’s not like Louis wasn’t opened up, but they both just loved doing it. There was something so intimate about Harry taking complete control and Louis trusting him enough to make him feel good in such a close and personal way. Plus, Louis’ low moans and high-pitched whimpers were enough to get Harry hard in his boxers, so they really didn’t need to be doing anything else to prepare their bodies for what was about to come.

Harry finally removed his tongue with a loud _slurp_ and a cheeky slap on Louis’ ass and then proceeded to unbutton his shorts and hastily pull down his boxers. “You ready, babe?” he finished, resting a gentle hand on the curve of Louis’ bum – he _really_ liked Louis’ bum.

Louis turned his head to look back at Harry with a lazy, love-drunk grin and a small nod, and soon, Harry was planting his knees on the outside of Louis’ thighs and lowering himself down on top of his boyfriend, his dick teasing at his entrance.

Louis could feel Harry’s warm torso pressing down onto his back while his cock eased its way inside him. Before Louis could wince in a rush of pain and pleasure, Harry’s hand was there stroking his back and moving upwards to dig in his hair. As soon as he felt Louis relax beneath him, he started moving his hips up and down, moving in and out of Louis, while leaving lazy wet kisses on the back of his neck.

With the feeling of Harry’s cock moving in and out of him and his body pressing down on his back and his warm lips sucking marks into his neck, Louis couldn’t help but release a strained moan into the covers. Louis knew he should let himself relax, let himself show Harry how good he was making him feel, but Louis was always one to keep everything inside, in and out of the bedroom.

Harry kept thrusting in and out of Louis, gradually increasing his speed, and Louis had to bury his face deep into the mattress and grab hold of the sheets in between his teeth to keep him from letting out a loud moan. But as Harry continued to increase his speed, Louis’ small moans became less and less stifled until he couldn’t take it anymore.

“ _Fuck,_ Harry,” he yelled, turning his face to the side. He could see Harry in his peripheral vision, his face a picture of concentration as he quickly moved his cock in and out of his hole, and _shit_ , that was probably the hottest thing he’s ever seen. “Oh my _god._ ”

“That’s it babe. Just let it out,” Harry said between short breaths. “You sound so hot like that. So fucking _hot_ ,” he finished, thrusting deeper inside Louis, aiming for that spot that always got Louis to yell his loudest. He removed his hand from Louis’ hair and trailed it up his arm to where his hand was tightly clutching the sheets. He then wrapped his hand around Louis’, smiling when he let go of the sheets and squeezed back on Harry’s hand in response.

Harry kept thrusting deep into Louis, bottoming out so his dick hit Louis’ prostate repeatedly, causing Louis to scream out in pleasure.

“Holy fuck, Harry,” Louis whined. “So- _mmm –_ close.”

Harry answered Louis with small, strained noises of exertion and a low, husky “Me too, babe.” He then used his free hand to tap at Louis’ hip, signaling for him to go up on his hands and knees before grabbing hold of Louis’ cock. “Want you to cum with me, okay Lou?” he continued, pumping Louis’ dick at an overwhelmingly fast pace.

Harry’s thrusts got harder but sloppier as he got closer and closer to his orgasm. His low grunts soon became loud, rough moans, and his grip on Louis’ hand got increasingly tighter. His hand’s rhythm on Louis’ dick faltered slightly as he hit his climax, hot liquid spurting out the head of his cock and into Louis, who was screaming out in pleasure as he hit his orgasm too. Louis’ cock leaked out ribbons of white liquid that dripped down Harry’s hand as he continued to stroke him through his orgasm.

While continuing to thrust into Louis at a gradually slower pace, Harry leaned down to rest his head on his back, nipping lightly at his tanned skin. “Love you,” he grumbled into his skin, and soon he was sliding out of Louis - making sure to catch a glimpse of his own cum slowly pour out of his hole- and turning him over onto his back.

Louis looked up at him with an expression that could only be described as tired and satisfied. His cheeks were colored a light shade of pink, his eyes a twinkling shade of blue, and his swollen lips were turned up into lazy, blissed out smile, and Harry thinks that this is why they call it ‘making love,’ because somehow, after every time they do it, Harry falls in love with this beautiful boy more and more, even when he never thought it could be possible.   

“I love you too,” Louis whispered, reaching out to grab Harry’s shoulder to pull him down for a kiss, never once letting go of his hand.

They ended up spending the rest of the day like that, sharing sleepy kisses in bed. Every now and then, Harry would reach down to tickle Louis’ feet, and Louis would respond by kicking them at his face, giving him a good view of his blue-pastel-painted toes. Harry would answer by snatching them from the air and giving them a quick peck and even playing a quick round of ‘this little piggy went to the market’ every so often.

“This isn’t the beginning of some weird foot fetish, is it, Harry?” Louis would ask.

Harry would defend himself by teasing Louis for supposedly enjoying massages more than love making, and they both would end up play fighting like fourth graders on the bed, which possibly led to more love-making and more orgasms and more I love you’s and that was all more than okay as long as they were together, acting like children and not growing up.

 

 

 


End file.
